Making It Up

as we go along

childhood memories

Mirror mirror, and a London Monday.

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This morning my alarm went off at 7am. Forty minutes later I managed to ease the sleeping baby back into bed and actually got up 🙁 not the start to the day I’d had planned, but nevertheless we all made it out of the house and on to a train just over an hour later, to head to London for the afternoon.

The headline reason was to see Mirror Mirror , a preview screening before the release on DVD next week. My ulterior motive was to give the kids a special trip out before the Voldesports makes London a no go zone for the next however many weeks it is.

The film was excellent. I love Julia Roberts anyway, and it was great to see her indulging herself and playing up the evil character. Some great funny dialogue as well, and good twists on the tale, stealing a bit here and there from other fairytales as it went. Even Small enjoyed it and given it is, at its core, a romance, that is really saying something. The scary bits weren’t too scary for Smallest, though the beast sequences were touch and go, and I was pleased to see the plucky heroine didn’t require any bloke to swoop in and save the day. Also rather pleased to have the bloke in question acknowledge that fact.

Lots of extra little plot points for discussion, a film that would bear revisiting I think.

And as for London? Bakingly hot and not nearly as busy as I expected. We managed all our tube traipsing with only one moment of pure terror when Small contrived to get his trainer stuck in the escalator, nearly causing a mass pile up with me and the two little ones on top of him. And breathe.

I do hope, when my children think back, they will remember days out like this. Treats that also hopefully give them confidence and skill. So they become aware of how to navigate a strange city, how to travel with many offspring, and above all else, that if you want to do it, you can. I was surprised as to how many ppl, including complete strangers, expressed admiration as to how brave I was to venture forth alone with four children, I guess I’ve my mother’s example to be grateful for there. I don’t remember anything ever really stopping her when we were young.

Back to today. We took the decision to head for home on the early train and given how exhausted they all were, it was the right decision. Also meant I got to spend half an hour in the garden with some children and a camera. Some interesting results, which I’ll share with you just as soon as I find a card reader 😉

And there you go. That was Monday.

Where I'm from

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I am from the cul de sac, from Black Jacks and paper bags of penny sweets.

I am from the ordinary semi that grew and grew to fit in the biggest family on the street, and all the neighbourhood children in the back garden on swings and a slide with a paddling pool in the summer.

I am from the nettles along the roadside, the heather and grass along the catch on the edge of the moors. I am from lazy summer days with my friends and my dog walking the moors and splashing in the water.

I am from the eldest girl of a family of girls and I am the eldest girl in a family of girls, from a broken home way way back in my past, from a broken father with his own damaged past. I’m from never speaking of the breaks. I’m from not knowing that I had an uncle and cousins until my grandmother died and they showed up at the funeral. I’m from the assisted place at the private school, that helped me to be the first in my family to go to university, where I drank and fought and learnt that alone doesn’t have to be lonely.

I am from the eternal making ends meet and always moving on. Never quite sure where to settle or what settling was.

From ‘I want never gets’ and ‘J is the clever one, her sister is the pretty one’.

I am from an unforgiving church that could offer no solace for a friend who took her own life. From the wilderness of back turned on religion, with the lingering sneaking suspicion there is more to the world than we can see or know.

I’m from a mining town in county Durham, the only place that’s ever really been home, from cottage cheese salads and fish and chips.

From the long hot summer that was my childhood, where my brown haired, brown eyed sister caught too much sun and was sick all down the hallway, the caravan parks in Wales where we spent our summer holidays, and the farm in the Peak District where I learnt to milk cows and herd sheep, when we went with grandparents and cousins while my mother convalesced.

I am from pictures stuffed into envelopes, in a bottom drawer of a bookcase, from dusty boxes in the garage from a five years ago move, from pictures that start over again with the birth of my daughter, that flash up on my screen every time I leave the keyboard for a minute.

HT: Brewcrew

The original instructions have disappeared (we found them on fragments from floyd) – but I found an article about the poem and the poet, which I think gives some clues, and a link to a lesson plan you could use to join in?

ETA other blogs with this meme: Sarah at tworedboots, Merry